Shift
by beeper
Summary: (Kakairu) Iruka, and changes.


Shift

* * *

Iruka detests change. He hates adjustments, alteration, anything that is not permanent. This is why his life is full of constants. Like the tap that drips, and will possibly continue dripping unless he does something to it. Or the peeling paint on his walls, in the apartment he's live in since—possibly forever.

He likes his life now, without great big monsters, enemies scaring and scattering people. He likes his life much better than his childhood, raw and bitter. Iruka does not live a perfect life, but it is better than what he has lived.

He likes Naruto because Naruto is another constant. _Predictably unpredictable_. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed, breathing constant susceptible to ramen. A constant, which he can respond with the same old reactions.

His work is routine. His change of clothes is routine. His grocery shopping is routine. He does not invite, or welcome change.

But then things did.

You know, changed.

* * *

Iruka falls unreasonably, inexplicably, irrationally in love with Kakashi. He tries to rationalise, he writes out equations and solves for solutions (let Kakashi be x), but this is something he cannot write off and explain. Kakashi is not an option, Kakashi destroys his routine existence.

Being a teacher, Iruka is a firm believer in science. Science and math. _Scienceandmathscienceandmath_, he repeats. He tries to convince himself it is a crush. A harmless bout of admiration. Of course it was normal. The Jounin was so talented, so good-looking, so—he'd drifted off again.

This was ridiculous. It is probably excessive hormone production or something. Iruka seeks medical explanations, leafing through thick textbooks with colour illustrations. He discovers the phrase 'excessive hormones', decides it is a logical explanation, and goes on to conveniently ignore the age range.

_It fades after teenage years_! The book screams.

Iruka covers that section with a finger.

* * *

The next day, it is Thursday. At six-thirty in the evening sharp, he is at the vegetable-seller's store. The shop-owner, familiar with his routine, hands him a bag full of what he always buys, without fail. Two brinjals, two tomatoes, six potatoes, onions. The weight of the bag is familiar. No change, which Iruka didn't mind, not at all.

He wanders around, not out of necessity, but of habit, and spins around so fast that his hair hits his eye when he hears, "-ka."

It turns out to be the egg-seller calling out to him in hope of selling the rest of her stock, not what he expected. His face collapses into an expression tragically comical. He approaches the egg-seller, picking up an egg experimentally, looking for cracks, for any sign of spoiling and finds none.

He walks away with a basket of eggs, far too many to finish alone.

He shuffles on for a few more minutes before realising he is approaching the bookstore. His head turns to regard its entrance involuntarily, and he notices with a twinge of worry and disappointment that Kakashi is absent.

He checks his watch and frowns. The new chapter of Icha Icha Paradise is out today, and Kakashi normally comes every week without fail to purchase it.

Maybe he preordered it, ( _That great pervert_, he thinks). Maybe he's on a mission, maybe he's cooking soup and the potatoes aren't cooked yet and he can't leave the fire. Maybe he's tripped and hit his head and he's bleeding to death without anyone to save him! Maybe--

"SHI-" Iruka's growing hysterics are stopped by a shout. He turns to the source, imagining it to be the end of a certain name. "KAMARU! Get in here. I'm tired of your grass-stained shirts!"

Another false alarm.

Iruka continues gloomily, quickening his pace. Any more false alarms and he'll be ridiculing himself, jumping at the slightest syllable.

* * *

When he arrives home, he kicks the bottom of the door before it slides open smoothly. He drops his keys in the second drawer, the second deepest compartment. He even puts the vegetables neatly into the refrigerator. He is responsible. He is Umino Iruka. He is a (responsible) adult ninja!

Iruka turns to his wall, full of cracks and patches of exposed wall.

"Helloooo," he drones, in greeting. The wall remains impassive.

"I'm doomed," Iruka admits. "I'm smitten."

His tap has the audacity to drip.

* * *

Author's Notes : I'm not sure where this is going. I'm not sure if Iruka even behaves this way.

But still, please review so I can IMPROVE. Yessir.

Additionally, need help on how to format this.


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